Small tiger

During the years when I ascended to the pinnacle of gambling, I was enveloped in a world where luck intertwined seamlessly with strategy. The thrill of risk was my constant companion, and every hand dealt was an opportunity to weave a tale of fortune and fate.

In those vibrant nights, the casino lights flickered like stars, each glimmer promising untold possibilities. The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and the intoxicating perfume of ambition. My every decision was calculated, and executed with precision, as I danced with the tides of chance, confident in my ability to bend them to my will.

I became known not only for my remarkable skill but also for a certain charisma that drew others to me. Players regarded me with a mix of admiration and trepidation, for I was not merely a participant in the game—I was its master. The cards whispered secrets to me, and I understood the language of the dice as if they belonged to a realm where I reigned supreme.

Yet, amidst the glamour and glory, this intoxicating world concealed its shadows. The very allure that elevated me to greatness also harboured treachery and deception. I found myself ensnared in a web woven by those who coveted my prowess, eager to see me fall from grace.

In those years, I walked a fine line between triumph and disaster, relishing every victory while remaining ever-vigilant against the unseen perils that lurked in the shadows.

The Years I Was The Gambling God

I never anticipated that Qiankun would audaciously approach me with a request. 


I observed as Qiankun extended his left little finger towards me, declaring, 


“I accept my defeat. I wish for Mr. Lupan to sever my left little finger and not choose any other. This time in Harbei City, I am not merely defeated; I am utterly humiliated…” 


I grasped the implication of Qiankun’s words. 


By losing only his left little finger, he could still retain a substantial portion of his deceitful skills. 


Should any other finger be severed, his arsenal of trickery might dwindle to mere remnants. 


Seeing the earnest expression on Qiankun's face, I turned directly to Aeliana and instructed, 


By “half finger,” I did not refer to half the length of the digit. 


Rather, it implied the severing of half the cross-section of the finger. 


As soon as I spoke, a glint of cold steel flashed. 


Chapter 298: The Favor of a Half Finger